Even the most abject have a sense of superiority based on powerful though undefined merits.

I regret. I apologize. I blame myself. I continue as before.

Language cannot say everything, fortunately.

As the tenor roars his passion, I think sadly of my spreading middle, and his.

A dense undergrowth of extension cords sustains my upper world of lights, music, and machines of comfort.

The exhibitionist loves to flirt with shame

Generosity knows how to count, but refrains.